


Relax

by guardami



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Dom/sub, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:27:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23964676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guardami/pseuds/guardami
Summary: "“Don’t you miss the down time? Surely being in control all the time can get tiring..”“Sometimes my control is my only saving grace,” he countered.“Maybe I could offer you a little relaxation,” she purred."Hotch meets a mysterious woman who thinks she can offer him something different.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Original Female Character(s), Aaron Hotchner/Reader
Comments: 18
Kudos: 71





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first time writing as the reader, and I guess it maybe reads more as an OFC - it's up to you! Make yourself the girl character or name her something for your own pleasure!

Hotch slumped over the bar, whisky in hand. The BAU team had been out to commemorate the end of a huge case, and while they were glad it was over it weighed heavily on their shoulders. 

The others had left slowly until Hotch was left, with a promise to Garcia that he would text when he was home, and that he wouldn’t drive.

He mused on their friendship as he stared into the bottom of his glass. On first meeting Penelope Garcia, he had found her odd, but had now come to delight in it. And when she had stood beside him, hand gently wrapped around his wrist, asking her to call or text if he needed anything, he found comfort in it. 

He gave a faint half smile to no one in particular, finding a little thankfulness for his team. It had been a while since the horrific death of Hailey, and they had picked up the pieces like a close knit family. When Jack received lavish presents at Christmas, and Hotch saw that lazy smile from Rossi, he knew Jack was going to make it through the tough years of childhood after losing a mother. When Jack had taken a fall at school, Hotch had texted the team - just to let them know he would be late, and nothing more, and an hour later Derek Morgan had came into the emergency room with a change of clothes for Jack and a hot, strong coffee for Hotch, he couldn’t bring himself to thank him, but the look on Morgan’s face and the clap he gave him on the shoulder told him he knew already. 

“You look like you could use another,” a soft voice said at his side, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

Hotch blinked at her, he felt like he hadn’t spoken to anyone that wasn’t work or Jack related in months. The barman set another whisky down in front of him and she nodded towards it, while she accepted a glass of red wine. 

“So,” she said, looking up at him. “How come your friends left, and you’re still here?” 

Hotch shook his head, “How come you’re here all on your own? Did your friends leave too?”

She smiled at him, at her question answered with another question. 

“And what am I to call you?” She purred, taking a long sip of her wine. His eyes flew to her lips, stained ever so slightly. 

“Aaron,” Hotch said softly. 

She nodded gently, holding his look. “Nice to meet you, Aaron. I’m Y/N.” 

Hotch smiled, unsure how to play this. It had been a long, long time since he had flirted with anyone, and even this woman didn’t seem normal in terms of her flirting. However, curiosity and alcohol led him deeper into conversation with her. 

He noticed she didn’t enquire as to his job, and he did the same for her. The careful piecing together of her words suggested to him she had a job similar to his, where reputation and gossip could ruin you in a heartbeat. 

He noticed her cross her legs over one another, her knee knocking into his. It felt electric. He couldn’t say if it was because of how long he had gone without this, or if it was something about her. 

Y/N leaned in, a hand on his knee and invited him into a booth, with another drink, and Hotch found himself agreeing. He followed her, sliding into the booth beside her and giving himself a little shake before they settled back into conversation. 

Heavy waves of arousal thrummed between them, and Hotch felt absolutely intoxicated. Every movement she made led him deeper into her spell, every brush of her hair over her shoulder, the curve of her smile, when she would lean forward and tap her fingers on his, keeping his attention. 

“So, Aaron,” she said, and he thought he felt her foot slide against his leg under the table. “When was the last time you were fully relaxed?” 

He laughed at that. “I’m afraid my line of work doesn’t allow for that very often.” 

“Don’t you miss the down time? Surely being in control all the time can get tiring..” 

“Sometimes my control is my only saving grace,” he countered. 

“Maybe I could offer you a little relaxation,” she purred. 

“While this has been lovely,” Hotch said gently. “I probably shouldn’t have indulged even this much, I’m afraid I’m not really in the right place for a relationship.” He looked away, guilt pulling at him for even accepting her invite for a drink, when he couldn’t offer much more than this. 

She surprised him with a laugh, a little breathy laugh and a roll of her eyes. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Aaron, but I’m not exactly in the market for a relationship either.” She sat back, folding her arms and sat quietly, measuring his reactions, a tiny hint of indignation around her actions and he felt it, but didn’t quite know what to make of it.

His hand fisted in his lap, regretting being there, wishing he had left with the others but he also felt rooted to the seat, held in her steady, even, hot gaze. He pinched his temple, in a familiar, stressed gesture and her lips quirked upwards. 

“So what do you want?” he asked. 

“Me? Oh, I don’t know. I was just having a drink, with a man who looked like he could use a little company,” she sipped her drink, that infuriating little smile still playing on her lips. 

“But you were suggesting something,” he said. 

A noise behind him made him jump, and of all the people in the world, Penelope Garcia stood there with a blushing face and awkward smile, rain soaked coat on. “Sir, I didn’t mean to interrupt but-” 

“Is everything okay?” Hotch stood, and she nodded furiously, obviously embarrassed. She tried to peek around him to see the woman Hotch had been sitting with, despite herself. 

“Yeah, I- I just couldn’t leave you here all alone, I was too worried you’d drive, I-” 

“Thank you,” Hotch said, the faintest smile telling her he wasn’t annoyed at her presence. 

“I’ll drive you home… if you’re done here?” she asked, waving her car keys about in front of his face. 

“I am,” he said heavily, running a hand over his tired face. 

He turned back to Y/N, and Garcia had the grace to step away. “I’m sorry to cut this short,” he said and she smiled up at him. 

“Don’t worry about it, I’m glad your friend came back for you.” 

He nodded. “Me too. I think.” 

She giggled, and he smiled at that, nice to hear her happy laugh through the careful lines of flirtation they had traded all night. He tapped the table twice, giving her a nod and turning to leave. 

“Wait, Aaron,” she said suddenly, and grabbed a bar napkin. She quickly grabbed a pen from her bag, and wrote down a cell number. She handed it to him with a smile, “If you ever want to find out what I was offering.” 

He took it, shaking his head with a laugh. “Maybe,” he raised his eyebrows at her then left, catching up to Garcia in the doorway. 

\-- 

They drove in silence, Garcia practically vibrating with questions as Hotch looked out the window at the rain. 

She managed five minutes, maybe more, before bursting. “Soo… who was that?” She stole a sideways glance at him and he groaned. 

“Just a woman,” Hotch said, staring at the window. “We just had a drink.” 

“Are you gonna call her?” she pressed, “I saw her write her number down.” 

Silence fell again. “You should! She was really beautiful,” Garcia continued. 

“Penelope,” Hotch said gently. “I appreciate you taking an interest, but please, stop.” 

“Sorry,” she mumbled in reply, but they looked at each other and both had a little smile. 

Soon, they arrived outside Hotch’s place, where all the lights were out, and he knew he would find Jack, asleep, and Hailey’s sister asleep in his guest bed, who had granted him a few extra hours babysitting to enjoy time with the team. He let out a heavy sigh, glad that a rare open weekend lay before him, only a few files of paperwork in his briefcase to look over. 

“Thank you,” Hotch repeated. “For the ride.” 

“No worries, Cap’n,” Garcia grinned at him. “Who knows where you would’ve ended up otherwise,” she wiggled her eyebrows at him and he rolled his eyes. 

“Goodnight, Penelope,” he said at that, getting out of the car and slamming the door closed. She tooted her horn, which of course, sounded like a cartoon and saluted him as she drove off. 

He sighed, letting himself into the house and casting off his shoes, jacket and tie. He looked in on Jack, who slept deeply, a teddy tucked to his chest. He smiled, glad he had indeed come home tonight, and found his way to his own bed, sitting down heavily. 

He lay down, letting his tired muscles slowly relax into the bed. He sighed heavily, and thought back to Y/N, sitting across from him, her dark eyes holding him captive. A shiver of arousal ran through him, and he felt his skin heat as flashes of her knees bumping his, her nails skating across the back of his hand, the shape of her lips as she sipped at her wine. 

He found himself hard, achingly so, and was glad for the cool breeze coming in the window from the heavy rain outside. He folded his arms behind his head, not giving in to his arousal that was making itself more and more known. 

Images of her flooded his mind, as he repeated her silken words in his head, imagining what she had meant by relaxation. He had a feeling it was more complex than a one night stand. 

In his head, she was there, as he lay thinking. He imagined her standing at the edge of the bed as he lay there, aching with arousal. He thought of her stripping off the black dress she had worn, and found his eyes fluttering shut at the thought of her curves underneath. 

His hand found his aching cock, and he had to stifle a moan as he started to stroke, falling back into the fantasy of Y/N. “Fuck,” he whispered into the silence, stroking hard and slow, his measured strokes making his breathing tighter and tighter. He imagined her crawling onto the bed, all soft whispered teases and smiles, a continuation of the little he already knew. He stroked quicker as he imagined her own hand taking over, her mouth closing over his head. His breathing almost stopped as he came in a rush, his eyes blown wide and dark. 

He lay panting, his stomach splattered with cum and his forehead damp with sweat. “Fuck,” he repeated, sitting up to survey the damage before collapsing back again. 

Eventually, his breathing settled back to normal, enough for him to clean up and take a long, deep drink of water. As he climbed back into bed, he grabbed the napkin from his pants pocket, and his phone. 

He paused for a second. He hadn’t planned on texting, or calling, or anything really. But he also hadn’t planned on coming home and exploring his fantasies in the dark, and part of him wanted more. 

He typed out a message and hit send before thinking: Thank you for tonight - A

Part of him expected a reply, but none came before sleep claimed him. 

He slept better than he had in months.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hotch falls deeper

No reply came to the text, and Hotch let himself forget the night in the bar with Y/N. He let himself be pulled back into the routine of work and childcare and more work. Only very occasionally would he think of her, usually late at night in the moments before he fell asleep. 

The BAU team sat in a briefing, JJ at the projector flipping through slides of their next case. They were flying all the way to Seattle later that day, but the briefing was long and torturous with seemingly never ending pictures of human devastation. 

Hotch felt his phone vibrate in his pocket against his chest and he pulled it out, ignoring JJ’s glance at him. 

\- I’m in town if you’d like to see me - Y/N

Hotch felt his breathing spike as he read the message, after forgetting all about Y/N, he was suddenly flooded with the memory of her sitting across from him, leading him deeper and deeper into her. 

Despite himself, he quickly tapped back a reply. 

\- I’m leaving for work tonight. Sorry. - A

He thought about it in between thinking about the case. Should he have apologised for working? No, not really - they hadn’t spoken since meeting, since Hotch had texted her weeks ago from his bed. If he hadn't been working, would he have said different? He re-read her message, it was so damn sensual. Not “would you like to go for a drink” or anything casual. She was so direct in her flirtation, while being completely indistinct at the same time. 

He set her out of his mind as the team pulled him out of his thoughts, starting to build what victimology they could from the slides, and preparing their paperwork for leaving. Hotch threw himself back into conversation, taking up a point Prentiss had made and bringing the case back to the forefront of his mind.

On the plane, once they had exhausted all they could from the files from local detectives, they split off to read or sleep or try and relax as much as they could before landing and hitting the ground running. Hotch leaned back in his seat, stretching his feet out in front of him. He looked at the screen on his phone, at the text bubbles he and Y/N had exchanged and sighed. He shouldn’t be thinking about it this much. He shouldn’t want to know more. 

He looked around at the team, at Prentiss and Reid who were deep in a game of chess, with more arguing about the amount of ways to win than actual chess being played. JJ slept, curled up in a chair. Morgan was typing on his laptop. Rossi was reading, but Hotch found him looking back at him. 

Rossi stood, and came to the vacant seat next to Hotch. “Everything okay?” 

“Yes,” Hotch replied. 

“A profiler would argue otherwise,” Rossi said, a smirk playing at his mouth. 

“It’s nothing,” Hotch said with the ghost of a laugh. For a moment he wanted to tell him, but in actuality, saying it out loud would make him realise how little contact he had with Y/N. One night of drinks, and then a very open ended offer wasn’t very tangible. 

Hotch opened the files on his lap and started to make notes. When he looked up, Rossi was still looking at him. “Really, Dave, it’s nothing.” 

“Alright,” the other man said, but he didn’t sound convinced at all, and he went back to his book.

\--

A couple of days passed, with their late arrival in Seattle and a complex unsub, the work was hard and brutal. It was relentlessly cold in their time there, making everything harder as they struggled with conditions. 

On their second night there, Hotch called it a night for the team after they had worked into the early hours at the police station, their evidence boards bursting. 

“Sleep, guys,” he said, closing his own folder. “I want everyone back here early, so take your opportunity now.” 

The team didn’t argue with him, filing out into their cars to go and rest up for a few hours. Just as he was closing the door to their conference room, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Part of him was so tired and worn down, he couldn’t be bothered to open it - but at this time, he had a feeling who it was from. 

\- I can’t sleep - Y/N

He rolled his eyes and shoved his phone back in his pocket, pulling on his coat and heading out from the police station. As he drove back to the hotel, he felt like his phone was burning in his pocket. It was so stupid. He gripped the steering wheel tightly. Why would she send that? At god knows what time in the morning? It would be later at home. He felt such an odd mix of emotions: frustration and tiredness, and that thrum of arousal that he only associated, now, with her. 

Arriving back at the hotel, Hotch locked up his car and made his way through reception and up to his room. He sighed as he surveyed the room; he had stayed in a lot of shitty hotels in his time as an agent but this had to be one of the worst, looking like it had been preserved in homage to 80s decor. 

He sat down on the edge of the bed, staring down at the three words Y/N had decided to torture him with. He thought back through his experience of these interactions, which to be honest, were few. He thought of Morgan and Garcia, and the ease of their flirtations - but he thought if he were to try that, it would come off very wrong. He typed back a reply and threw his phone down on the bed, deciding to take a shower to rinse the day off. 

\- What’s keeping you up? - A 

Hotch showered for a long time, leaning back against the cool tiles and letting the water run over him. God, he was tired. He thought about the question he had just asked, and whether he wanted a reply or not. He desperately wanted to sleep, to try and heat up from the biting cold outside, but at the same time he had asked a very open question, and part of him hoped Y/N would reply. 

He found no reply when he came back from the shower, feeling much better with fresh hair and clean clothes. He settled down in bed, staring at his phone. He wanted to keep it going, but at the same time he didn’t even know her. 

\- Goodnight, I hope you get some sleep. -A

A reply came in seconds. 

\- You too, Aaron - Y/N 

She hadn’t answered his question, or given him anything more about her. Despite this, he felt a wave of comfort from the message and sleep was ready to claim him.

He dreamt of her. He dreamt of her in the bar they had met, of her leading him to some discreet place and pressing in on him until he felt he would burst. The dream was punctuated with other things, work things, but images of her nails on his chest and his hands in her hair flooded his mind's eye. 

When he woke, with the sky still dark outside but his alarm blaring, he found he was aching hard again but duty called so he ignored it and found a cold shower was it’s only cure. 

The messages started to come more frequently, and he wondered if she was bored or lonely or genuinely interested in his mundane day to day texts. He kept his job out of it, and to be honest it was kind of refreshing, to not be Unit Chief SSA Hotchner. It was weird to go without the title, he was so used to it. 

Even at its most frequent, it was a couple of texts a day, a small flurry of back and forth when they caught each other at the right moment. He found it lifted his mood, as he felt no expectation of a reply, and in the heat of his job, that was a nice weight not to carry. 

It went on for a few weeks.

The messages were a mix of mundane details from both of their lives: 

\- I’ve been stuck in traffic for almost an hour - Y/N 

\- It’s 11 and I’m just leaving the office - A 

\- I had the best fettuccine tonight, you have no idea - Y/N 

\- Good morning - A 

It went on, and kept going. Hotch almost felt like he had an imaginary friend. She didn’t feel real, a figment of his imagination as he built on what he could remember. But he found himself imagining her in her day to day life, in day to day outfits, and it gave him more than the sultry lines she had thrown at him that night in the bar. 

It changed one night on a case in New York, a particularly tough case with kids going missing from after school projects. The ones involving kids always hit the hardest. 

Hotch sat at a desk in a makeshift base in the police station. Only he and Reid remained, the others already retired for the night. 

Reid stood at the evidence board, Hotch relaying information from the paperwork as Reid copied it onto the board. Reid seemed to have endless energy, his gestures at the board and speed of speech increasing with every hour, and Hotch could only indulge his dedication to the job. 

At around 3am, they turned a corner but Hotch made the call to inform the team in the morning. The unsub was following a pattern, so a few hours wouldn’t make a difference. He drove Reid back to the hotel and they said goodnight, before Hotch found his way to his own room. 

Now in a routine, he settled in bed with his phone and checked for anything from Y/N. He only did this after work emails, or work texts, or messages from Jessica about Jack and how they were coping back at home. 

He felt his stomach turn over when he saw a string of three messages waiting for him: 

\- Do you ever feel like a hot bath or shower is the cure to all problems? - Y/N

\- How’s your night going? - Y/N

And then the third message, the third message threw Hotch. It was a picture. They had never done that. He hadn’t seen her since he had left the bar and ducked out into the rain with Garcia. 

The picture showed Y/N’s legs lazily thrown over the side of a bath, the bath filled with bubbles and petals. Candles were the only light, and the warm glow on her skin was delicious to look at. The picture was an absolute assault, every detail commanding his attention - from the glass of wine that dangled perilously from her other hand, the curve of her leg, glistening with water droplets. 

He let out a moan into the empty room and was so glad he was alone. It wasn’t even that revealing. All he could see were her legs, and her hand - but it was the fact he was now imagining her taking that photo, imagining the tilt of her head, the line of her body as it disappeared beneath the water. 

He wondered what she was hoping for in return, for he surely had no intentions of taking photos of himself. Instead, he followed his instincts, tapping back: 

\- Gorgeous. - A 

He went to put his phone down but the floating dots that meant she was typing appeared and he found himself keeping his eyes trained on the screen. It was so late, and he was so unbelievably tired, but nothing would have made him close his phone at that moment. 

It seemed to go on forever, torturing him. If he weren’t so hooked on knowing what she was typing he would have laughed at himself - is this how teenagers felt? When they stayed up to type love notes to each other? He had to remind himself that these weren’t love notes at all. And that the answer for both of them, is that they were both lonely but desperately busy. He found solace in her messages, punctuating his day with news that wasn’t about death or torture or abuse. 

The vibration of his phone brought him out of his thoughts. His eyes widened at the words, and he swallowed the sudden nerves that flew up into his throat. 

\- I can call if you can’t sleep - Y/N

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you're enjoying this - there's a tiny bit of me that almost feels like this is a Hotch/Irene Adler fic haha!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phone sex is one of the world's finest art forms, or so our lovely lady thinks.

What was going on, he wondered. They had found this comfortable rhythm of messages, of back and forth, of every day details and the occasional message with a flirty, warm undertone that made Hotch feel like someone was thinking of him while he took on the world. And now, in a matter of minutes he had been blindsided by the photograph of her, and now the offer of a phone call, the offer of a warm voice in his ear. 

It was impossible to turn down. 

\- Shouldn’t you be sleeping? - A 

\- Unconventional hours, plus this is more fun - Y/N

He frowned at the message, her job still a mystery even to the profiler - but he deliberately hadn’t wondered, and had only worked with what she had chosen to give him.

His phone lit up suddenly, her name blazing across the screen. Fuck it, he thought, and in a rare impulsive move, he answered. 

“Hello?” 

“I didn’t think you’d actually answer.” He could hear the laughter in her voice, and the mix of infuriated and desire he had felt when he had met her flooded back into his stomach. 

“You said it would be fun,” he answered, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. 

They melted into conversation for a little while, Hotch relaxed back on the bed and found his eyes closing as he listened to her voice wash over him. God, she was intoxicating. He imagined her lying in her own bed, those flirtatious eyes that always seemed to be laughing, her legs - which seemed to be constantly on his mind now - caught up in the bed sheets. 

“You sound tired,” she purred through the phone.

“So do you,” he murmured back, her voice was deliciously sleepy, and he was trying hard to keep fantasy at bay, trying not to imagine her sleep heavy whispers against his skin as they lay together. He lay staring at the ceiling as he listened to her, and as she gave a soft sigh, he felt his skin prickle with goosebumps. 

“I wish you were here,” she said in the softest tone yet and Hotch felt the words slide through him like fire. The feeling of being wanted was so very powerful, and something that hadn’t spiked inside him for a long time. 

“Yeah? Me too,” he said, letting her pave the way through their conversation. 

She sounded like she was stretching and he smiled at the thought of her stretching out like a lazy, satisfied cat. “Although I doubt we’d be sleeping if you were here…” 

His quiet laugh came out as a warm rumble. “Tease.” 

“Well, I have been trying all night,” she giggled back at him and he finally gave in to the erection that was pressing at his pants. He palmed it through the material and bit his lip to hold back a groan - but didn’t quite make it. 

He heard her delighted breath. “Aaron,” she murmured. “Tell me the truth. Are you hard just now?” The tiny, subtle edge to her voice made his breath come heavier with desire. 

“You know I am.” 

She let out a soft hum. “God, I can just imagine you stroking.” She was taking her time and it was driving him crazy, he managed to undo his pants one handed and release his cock. He moaned again, but this time didn’t try to cover it up. 

It was thrilling. He couldn’t get enough. 

“If I were there…” she purred. “I would just enjoy the show, I think. Sit back and watch your hand sliding. Those dark eyes… I keep thinking about them.” 

His breath caught in his throat. He didn’t say anything. 

“Maybe I’d come and sit beside you, and you’d feel my body all over your side. My lips on your neck. My breath on your skin. My hand wrapping, ever so gently, around you.” 

He groaned her name and she paused, waiting for him to settle back down to a steady pace. 

“I’d love to see you worked up, Aaron. I’d love to see you out of control, and only I can take you over the edge.” 

He paused for a second, feeling a flair of guilt that it was all about him. “If you were here,” he said shakily, “I would-” 

“Hey, no,” she said gently. “This is for you.” 

They were both quiet for a second as they re-balanced and then she resumed drawing him deeper and deeper into her words. 

“I would love to see how you taste,” she whispered. “I’d have you lie back and relax, as I took my sweet time exploring you, knowing that you’re fucking aching, God it’s so hot.” 

Hotch let out a tiny moan to let her know he was still with her, his hand working faster on his cock. 

“I would lick you, slowly, so slowly, from base to tip. You’d be begging for me to take you in my mouth, to feel my mouth all over you.” 

She paused. 

“I bet you’ll sound so good when you beg for me. You’re so calm and so careful. It’ll be an absolute pleasure to hear you all undone and begging for release… won’t it?”

She paused, again. He stilled his hand in a desperate attempt from falling over the edge, as he wanted to keep climbing the peak she was building for him. 

“Will you beg for me, Aaron?” 

It was almost painful how turned on he was, a mess of sweat and desire in a hotel bed. Cautionary alarms went off in his head, the usually principled and measured Aaron Hotchner didn’t beg. But he wasn’t that right now, he was totally hers. 

“Please,” he choked out. 

She gave a satisfied hum. 

“More,” she said. She sounded completely in control and it made him only want her more. He imagined her, lying on the bed, face at his hip, lips inches from his cock that was so hard it might burst, and that little smile that haunted his dreams on her pretty mouth. 

“Please,” he repeated. “Please take me over the edge, Y/N.” 

She was silent for a moment. 

“Please, can I cum?” 

He felt so unbelievably vulnerable in that moment, asking for her permission. 

“Yes,” she murmured, breaking him. “Cum for me. Now.” 

He did. Hard. He felt as if it would never stop as he exploded, a ragged moan escaping his lips. 

It took a long time for his breathing to even out, his eyes closed tightly as he tried to come back down. 

They didn’t say anything for a long time. He thought he had heard her breathing change too, and he wondered if she had pleasured herself. The image was almost too heady for him to deal with, as his softening cock twitched painfully. 

“Aaron?” she whispered, bringing him back. 

“I’m here,” he answered, his voice heavy with deep satisfaction. 

“You should get some sleep,” she murmured, and they fell into a quiet exchange of good night messages. It was comforting, to him, after the exhilaration she had just put him through. As they hung up the call, Hotch let out a massive breath, tinged with laughter as he looked down at himself. He had never had an experience like it, and something told him she hadn’t shown him anything yet.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Call me self indulgent, but more phone sex was needed

After their call in the hotel, Hotch couldn’t stop thinking about her. Her voice plagued his mind and his dreams relentlessly. It was truly the finest form of torture, he decided, as he lay in bed staring up at the blank ceiling. 

He wished she would make another offer to see him. He knew he shouldn’t. Work was busier than ever. Jack loved it when he made time for him, and Hotch loved it in return. But his mind felt clearer after the release Y/N gave him. He felt like he could see again, after the haze of hurt years of hard work and the loss of his ex wife had given him. 

Their messages had fallen back into the everyday fashion, small details and complaints and anecdotes that decorated his days at the BAU and nights in bed alone. A local case came across their desks, and it was ruinously hard to deal with, and Hotch found himself coming home at night and wrapping himself around Jack in front of the TV with a heavy weight on his shoulders. 

They lay on the couch together, Jack and Hotch, the night the case came to a close, with a 90s film on the TV screen, Jack rubbing his cheek lightly on Hotch’s t-shirt covered chest. Chinese take out boxes littered the table in front of them. Hotch’s fingers coasted gently through Jack’s hair as he fell asleep on top of him. For the first time in days, Hotch felt relaxed. 

He let Jack sleep, his snores puffing against his chin and he pulled out his phone. Y/N had been quiet the past few days, but so had he with the case. 

He typed a message: 

\- Sorry I’ve been quiet. Work has been difficult. - A 

He let himself drift off too, cupping the back of his little boy’s head, and falling into a light sleep. When he woke, the sky was dark around them. Jack’s hand had slid into the collar of his shirt and rested against his neck. 

He pressed a kiss to his fingers and shifted, groaning a little at the dead weight on top of him. Hotch gently scooped Jack up into his arms, who only worked his way deeper in against his neck. 

He took his time settling Jack into bed, and savoured it - he wasn’t able to do it enough. He and Jessica had worked out a good routine, and he felt he was able to have more moments with Jack where they were silly, and laughing, and he found his heart set to break when Jack rewarded him with a hug or a hand latched around his own. 

He left Jack and came back to the couch with a glass of whisky, flipping through the TV and settling on sports. He wasn’t interested, but he didn’t want to sit alone in silence. 

He picked up his phone and he felt the familiar drop in his stomach at seeing a reply: 

\- You don’t have to apologise - Y/N

He smiled. That was perhaps the best part. It was one of the things that had ruined him and Hailey - when he couldn’t come to the phone or be home for dinner or reply to a text. With Y/N, it was simple. Talk if you can. 

Of course, it wasn’t that simple, and that part Hotch tried not to think about. Even if he did end up seeing her, he was sure it would never become a conventional relationship, that he would never be integrated into her life and vice versa. He shrugged it off, and stored that away with the other multitude of things he tried not to think about. 

His phone lit up with another message, distracting him. 

\- If I asked you to meet me, would you? - Y/N

It was like she could read his thoughts. He let out a long sigh, typing a few different replies and deleting them each time. 

\- If we could make it work with our schedules. - A

He turned his attention back to the TV, trying to avoid staring at his phone. It lit up. A call. Fuck. He floundered for a second, unsure what to do. He remembered she couldn’t see him sitting in sweats in his living room with fried rice on the table and Jack’s felt tip pen marks on his arm. He picked up the call. 

“Hey, handsome,” her voice floated through the phone. 

Hotch snorted. “Hello.” 

She laughed. “You could try returning the compliment, you know.” 

He rolled his eyes, covering them with one hand. “Hello, beautiful,” he answered and in his head Garcia floated like a friendly ghost. She would have known what to say. She would’ve had ten elaborate pet names in no time. He shrugged the thought away. 

“That’s better,” Y/N said smugly. 

They made small talk for a little while, Hotch found himself relaxing into the couch, his body warm and loose from comfy clothes and alcohol starting to touch him. Her voice was like a balm to his sore back and tired eyes, and he let it wash over him with abandon. 

“So when I asked if you would meet me…” she trailed. “Wanna make a plan?” 

“I do,” he answered. “But I’m sure you’re aware by now the nature of my work can require me to change my plans at very short notice.” 

“I’m flexible.” 

“I’m sure you are,” Hotch answered, without even thinking. 

“You have no idea,” she purred and the tone of their conversation tipped over an edge and went tumbling downwards. 

They made plans to meet, and Hotch’s heart was racing the whole time, in a week’s time at a hotel. Y/N promised she would be discreet in making the arrangements and Hotch found he believed her. 

He couldn’t believe he was agreeing to her offer. 

Surely, a case would come up and he would have to go. 

Jessica had already agreed to babysit if he needed, in a quick text exchange, on the premise of a late meeting. He felt bad. If the guilt played at him too much, he could cancel. He could not show up. He could delete her number and forget her, and her voice which drove him crazy, and her face that floated in his dreams, had ever existed. He knew he wouldn’t do that - but it was a safety net he had to give himself. 

They agreed to meet in the hotel bar, Hotch found himself glad for this, rather than just an expectation to meet in a hotel room and get on with it. 

They chatted and planned casually, Hotch attempting to ignore the mix of arousal and heat and anticipation that was growing deep inside him. 

“I have to ask,” Y/N said. “What do you like?” 

“Um…” Hotch was at a loss for words. 

“Or not like, maybe that’s easier,” she said softly. “Obviously, we can talk about all of this when we see each other… but I just fancied something to daydream about.” 

A smile formed on his face at her innocent words tinged with filth. 

“To be honest, Y/N, you’ll probably be disappointed here. My experience is very-” He found himself struggling to find the right word. “Normal.” 

She giggled. He didn’t say anything. 

“Okay, so try this instead, when you’re on your own and fantasizing; what do you think about?” 

He gulped. That was a different question entirely. His sex life had been okay with Hailey, with ups and downs like every couple, but it was vanilla for the majority of the time. He had loved making love to her, when they were good, when she would smile at him and kiss him and let him pull her into bed. 

He decided to test the waters. “Well… I love nothing more than giving a woman pleasure.” 

He waited, and she gave him nothing to work with, no reaction. 

“I love to bury my head between her thighs, spread her open, take her apart-” 

He was interrupted by a tiny hitch in Y/N’s breath. He smiled. He guessed he wasn’t doing so badly. 

“I love the taste, I love feeling that shake in your thighs, the drip of your juices down my chin, onto the sheets-” He wasn’t sure at what point he had exchanged “her” for “your” but in his mind’s eye he knew exactly where he was. He was between Y/N’s naked legs, on her bed, with her hands curling into his hair and urging him on. 

“I think I’d love the feeling of your nails in my hair,” he confessed and she rewarded him with a moan. “I think you would love the feeling of my stubble on the softest part of your inner thighs, as I kissed, and nipped, and licked my way closer to you.” 

He had never indulged like this. He drew on memory and fantasy alike and let himself melt into it. It was liberating. 

“You know,” he said, a light, teasing tone in his voice that he didn’t often find. “I think I could do this for hours. I think I could spend all day, lapping at you, circling in on your clit, feeling you move beneath me, slipping fingers inside you, learning you.” 

“Aaron,” she whispered back, and it sent lightning bolts through his veins to his cock. 

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked, quietly. 

She let out that noise he loved, the one where she stretched and sounded so satisfied. 

“I’m very much enjoying myself,” she purred. “I’m so wet.” 

Hotch moaned. 

“Fuck,” he whispered. 

“You should be here, on your knees, worshipping me,” she said, that confident edge coming back to her voice. 

Hotch took his cock out of his sweats, nervous tension flooding him as he wrapped a hand around himself and started to stroke.

“You should be fucking drenched in my juices.” 

“I should be.” Hotch agreed. “I should have your legs over my shoulders, tongue pressed as deep as it’ll go, your hands keeping me there.” 

She moaned loud and free and he bit his lip, imagining her slipping her own hand into her underwear, the delicious sounds that came through the phone painted him a picture of pure erotica. 

His strokes came a little quicker as they took their pleasure together on the phone. 

“You have no idea how wet I am,” she murmured in between soft, breathy gasps. “Are you hard? Are you touching yourself?” He was amazed at how she seemed to be able to regain control. 

“Aaron,” she coaxed when he didn’t reply. 

“Yes.” He groaned. “You know I am. You know I’m fucking rock hard, and stroking, and thinking of you.” 

“Good,” she sounded happy. “Just one thing, though. Don’t you dare cum before me.” 

He paused for a second, he had been close but she had dragged him back from the edge. 

“Okay,” he gasped. 

“I’m close,” she moaned and he could hear her shifting about restlessly. It only fed his fire. “Keep talking.” 

Hotch thought desperately for a second, to get back on track. He took his hand off of his cock and instead tried only to focus on her, and her pleasure. It was torture. It was the hottest moment of his life. “I… I would love you to sit on my face,” he confessed, cheeks burning. 

“I would love you to use me for your own pleasure,” he said, looking at his cock which was aching for more touch. He was burning up. “I’d love to feel you ride my face, your pussy grinding into my mouth.” Hotch let out a moan of his own, watching a drop of precum slide over the head of his cock. 

“I’d love to feel you cum all over my goddamn face,” he said and that did it for Y/N.

He heard her moan his name several times, heard her breathing hitch and gasp and stagger. He loved it. He loved every second of it, knowing that he was the cause of her happiness. 

As her breathing settled, Hotch waited. He knew he could have followed her into orgasm, but something made him wait. Last time, he had felt such a ridiculously heady release at her telling him to cum, he wanted it again. 

“Aaron,” she asked, reading his mind. “Have you finished?” 

“No,” he confessed. “I stopped touching to focus on you.” 

“The world needs more men like you,” she giggled, clearly very smug and happy in her own satisfaction. “Now, start stroking again, work yourself nice and slow.” 

He did, gladly. 

It didn’t take long for her to pull him over the edge, to have him moaning her name down the phone line as he came into his hand. It was wild, he thought, that she had such power over him without ever laying a finger on him. 

He was desperate for more. 

They hung up the phone after it all settled. Hotch lay dazed on the couch, the sports channel played on in the background. He let out a long, sated breath. Next week couldn’t come fast enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you're enjoying this side of Mr Hotchner! Thanks for reading x


	5. Chapter 5

He was called away once in the week which led up to his meeting with Y/N. The team sensed Hotch’s anxiety to wrap the case up as soon as possible, which was normal but heightened. 

As they stood in front of evidence boards and stacks of paperwork and photographs, JJ noticed Hotch checking his phone for what felt like the millionth time that day. 

She took him aside and looked up into his face. “Sir, I don’t mean to speak out of turn, but is everything alright?” 

“What do you mean?” Hotch asked, frowning. 

“You just seem… in a hurry.” 

“I just want this done as soon as possible, JJ. We all want to go home, don’t you?” 

“Of course I do,” she laughed slightly.

“Then I suggest we leave this conversation and get back to doing our jobs,” Hotch said, he didn’t mean to speak unkindly to Jennifer but he also had no desire to unpack his personal life and his snowballing interactions with Y/N. 

As they parted, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and it felt like it burned him through his clothes and onto his skin. He felt guilty. He shouldn’t be so aware of it, so aware of her. He pinched his nose, irritated that his actions had led to the team noticing a change in his behaviour. 

He set his jaw, and went back to work. 

— 

The rest of the week passed without Hotch and the rest of the BAU team being called cross country. He worked hard, trying to forget about his phone during work hours, sliding it into his desk drawer as he worked. 

At home, he focused only on Jack as they did homework and ate dinner and went through bedtime routines. Hotch found his relationship with Jack slowly improving as they spent more time together, with Hotch often taking his laptop home and working once Jack was in bed. He liked that he could find moments with his son, and found that he didn’t feel so guilty anymore. 

Y/N still floated in his mind from time to time. He would always settle into bed with his phone, and took comfort in always sending a message before bed, whether or not she seemed in the mood to talk or not. 

The night before they were due to meet, Hotch lay in bed, only in boxers as he just seemed to be too damn hot, despite the breeze coming through the window. 

He stared at his screen, wondering what his evening message should be as their meeting drew closer. 

He rolled on his front, propping himself up on his elbows and tapped: 

Are you looking forward to tomorrow? Would you like me to bring anything? - A 

It was good enough, he thought. He didn’t want to indulge in more of their phone sex or flirting, he wanted to wait. He wanted to savour seeing her for the second time. He had a feeling he was in for a night of desire like he had never had before. 

The dots that told him she was typing appeared. 

\- Oh absolutely. Condoms - Y/N 

He let out a huff of laughter at her absolute directness. 

\- Okay. - A 

The bubbles appeared and disappeared a couple of times, causing Hotch to frown. What was she trying to say? 

Behind him, he heard a noise and his door opened, and Jack stood framed by the hall light in his pyjamas, teddy hanging from his hand. 

“Daddy? I can’t sleep, can I sleep with you?” 

“Hey buddy,” he said softly. “Of course. C’mere.” 

Jack climbed into his big bed, clingy hands wrapping around Hotch’s neck for a cuddle. He settled down, moving Jack into a comfortable position against him and turning out the light. 

In the dark, Hotch quickly typed a message before pressing a kiss to Jack’s head and closing his eyes. 

\- Goodnight, see you tomorrow - A 

— 

He managed to get through the day without too much stress, although he found himself feeling distracted and checking his watch once too often. 

He confined himself to his office as much as possible, trying to will the day away by burying himself in paperwork. 

Eventually, he was allowed to leave, and he had a quick freshen up in the bathroom with a change of shirt and a spray of cologne. He redid his hair and did what he could in the little bathroom. 

He went down into the bullpen before leaving for the weekend, his briefcase in hand with work for the evenings. 

“Night guys,” he said as he cut through his team. “Have a good weekend.” 

“Woah,” Garcia, who was leaning on Morgan’s desk, caught him by the arm. “You smell, and I cannot stress this enough, amazing, boss man.” 

Hotch almost blushed and she laughed at his bashful reaction. 

“Yeah, lookin’ sharp, Hotch,” Morgan commented, lazily appraising him from his desk chair. “You got a hot date?” 

Hotch smiled that tiny smile they all knew, the one they looked for when they wanted reassurance he wasn’t mad. “I politely decline to comment,” Hotch said, with a nod to Morgan, and he departed without another word. 

Morgan and Garcia only just managed to wait for him to be out of earshot before they were in a rush of whispered giggles. 

— 

He arrived at the hotel a few minutes early, and took his bag to the bar to order a drink. He found himself trying to stop snatching glances at the door. 

It was odd for him, he was so used to being in control, being an authority figure. When he walked into a meeting, the team almost always fell quiet like school kids, when he entered a crime scene he was met with sombre handshakes from people who admired his career. So the little nervous butterflies that were unfolding in his stomach unsettled him, but he sipped his drink and found a table where she would hopefully find him looking every inch the cool, calm and collected persona he tried so hard to keep together. 

She appeared at the bar and caught his eye, and he immediately felt the heat rise in his cheeks as he watched her, and her relentless seductive energy charmed everyone around her. 

Y/N came over, every inch a confident woman, with a martini in hand and a smart leather overnight bag in the other. She smiled at him and he thought he would melt right there.

“Aaron,” she greeted him, as she slid into the chair across from him. Every time she said his name it had the same effect and he felt his skin prickle with heat. 

“Y/N.” He gave her a little nod. 

“Relax,” she laughed, a warm hand came across the table and slipped over his own. “You look like you’re about to run.” 

“I didn’t know if I’d even make it,” he confessed and watched her nails skate over the back of his hand. 

“I’m glad you did,” she said gently, he looked at her and her eyes were warm and soft, and he felt like he had made the right decision. 

She made him relax with small talk and touches until he felt better. He found her so easy to talk to, she had almost become his closest confidante. 

“Now,” she said, her tone turning serious. “I wanted to wait until we were in person to explain… I have some rules for what we’re about to do.” 

Hotch didn’t reply. 

She took a breath, watching his face carefully for a reaction. “You don’t have to agree to any of this. You can walk away right now, and we can discuss and compromise on a number of the points I have.” 

He waited. 

“I enjoy a lifestyle, which involves exercising control in the bedroom. I know you do that in every other aspect of your life, so I was hoping it might come as some relief to you.” 

“What do you mean?” He asked, he was almost sure he understood but his work and his traumas had taught him to be cautious. 

“I mean,” and she leaned in, dropping her voice to a lower tone. “In the bedroom you would be mine, to do with as I please. Within reason, of course.” 

“Are you a dominatrix?” He asked with a laugh, and he was glad to see he wasn’t angry. 

“Not quite,” she laughed, her teeth drawing her lower lip in. “I guess I’d be classified as a switch, in the scene. But the BDSM scene-“ she paused to watch his face closely. “It isn’t so much for me anymore. I don’t like the clubs. I need to be more careful now, with everything going on.” 

She didn’t elaborate and he didn’t ask. 

“So most of the time,” she continued, “I would be in control of you, yes. Most of the time, my word would be final. But I assure you, your pleasure would be at the forefront of my interests.” 

“What about the rest of the time?” Hotch asked. 

“There’s something to be said for giving up everything to someone else,” she said quietly. “And sometimes I need it too.” 

Hotch nodded, mulling her ideas over in his head. 

She took that moment to reach into her bag and pull out a small stack of papers, to which Hotch raised his eyebrow. 

“So,” she said, tapping her silver pen on the paper. “I guess this will help you decide. First, there’s an agreement here, ensuring our privacy and reputations. It sounds silly but-“ 

“No I understand,” Hotch quickly interrupted. It was a relief. Criminals had used personal information against him before, indeed in the death of Hailey and against his team. He knew there was nothing to stop people guessing or deducing where he was, but having her word that she would not exploit him, and he for her, meant a lot. 

Her warm smile told him she was thinking the same thing. 

“Okay, on to the fun part,” she said, flipping a page. “Here is a list of all your common, and some not so common kinks-“ 

Hotch’s eyebrows flew up and she held back a laugh. 

“I’d like you to look over them - it doesn’t have to be right now - and let me know what you think. What ones you absolutely do not want to try, what ones you’re curious about and what makes you a little hot under the collar.” 

Hotch put out a hand for the paper and he scanned it. Words flew in front of his eyes and he didn’t even know where to start: choking, orgasm denial, name calling, uniforms, lingerie… the list went on. 

“If I don’t answer this right now, what are we doing today?” He asked. “If I decide I want to go on.” 

She took his hand again, and her thumb ghosting over the back of his hand had his eyes closing. “I’m not going to throw you in at the deep end, so just a little enjoyable night, give you a taste.” Her voice was a murmur that settled on his skin, heating it instantly. 

“And,” she pressed slightly into his hand. “I use a traffic light system, so if you want to stop, and stop everything, give me a red. It’s self explanatory - green for go, yellow for not sure.” 

He was quiet for a long time. 

“What are you thinking?” Y/N asked.

He looked at her, and her open, honest face told him he had nothing to worry about. This was about respect. He would give himself to her and she would respect his desires and boundaries and curiosities. 

“I think.. I would like to go upstairs.” 

She slid the privacy agreement across the table, a quirked eyebrow telling him he was going nowhere before signing. He did, and she grinned. 

“Let’s go have some fun, handsome.” 

They stood and he cut in, picking up her bag as well as his. 

Her eyes sparkled as she led the way out. “Keep acting like that and I’ll have you trained in no time,” she giggled and he had two thoughts flash into his head: what am I getting myself into, and my cock is so fucking hard right now.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explicit content!

They arrived at the room, tension thrumming between them. She surveyed the room as Hotch sat down their bags. Y/N stood at the window, taking in the view, before turning to survey Hotch with the same critical eye. 

She walked towards him, and he felt dazed as he watched her approach, her figure on show in her shirt and skirt. 

“Don’t move,” she whispered, as she raised her hands and gently slid his jacket from his shoulders. The jacket dropped to the floor with a thud. She reached up and started to unknot his tie, his breathing quickened as he felt her fingers brush the underside of his jaw. The tie fell to the floor as well. 

“Are you okay?” She asked into the quiet. 

“Yeah.”

“Good.” 

Her fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt, and she took her time. Hotch felt like it went on forever as he felt the gentle touches of her fingers to his chest. He dearly wanted to reach and wrap his hands around her waist but he was trying to keep to her rules. 

As the shirt joined the other garments on the floor, she appraised his torso with a long, hungry look. “Gorgeous,” she purred, pressing her lips to his shoulder and dragging her nails ever so lightly down his stomach. 

The first touch of her lips caused him to moan, and her to smile. 

She gently lifted his arm, unsnapping his watch and setting it aside. 

Y/N latched her fingers under Hotch’s belt and pulled him closer. He was still taller than her, despite her heels. 

“Kissing or no kissing?” she asked, looking up at him. He looked confused so she elaborated. “Some people don’t want to, in my experience. Too many feelings.” Her hands ran up his forearms and he knew in that moment he couldn’t have refused. 

“Yeah, I think kissing is good,” he answered and as he finished her mouth found his and he could have dropped to his knees at that point. 

Her tongue pressed into his mouth and he allowed it with a moan. He was a good kisser, but she was too, if not better. Her hands came up around his neck and into his hair, pulling another moan from him. 

He couldn’t resist it, and he drifted, his hands coming up to grip her hips and they felt delicious in his hands. He groaned, pulling her closer, desperate to get some contact on his hardness still hidden beneath his trousers. 

After a moment of his hands on her, she stepped back. 

“What did I say?” she asked. 

He didn’t answer, so she stepped forward and reached up to tug his chin down, forcing him to meet her gaze. 

“What did I say?” she repeated. 

“Don’t move.” 

“Uh huh.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You will be if you keep it up,” she murmured. 

“What’s your colour?” she asked as she laid hands on his belt buckle. 

“Green.” 

She rewarded him with another kiss, a deep, filthy kiss that had Hotch fighting the urge to pick her up and slam her into the nearest wall. 

He was soon naked, and she had him sit on the bed. He watched her come to stand between his legs, the material of her skirt brushing his thighs and causing him to shiver. 

Y/N bent down, taking Hotch’s jaw in her hand. “You will not cum,” she said, her tone gentle but firm, “until I say so. Understand?” 

“Yes,” Hotch said, his breathing hitched as she took that moment to slip off her shirt, and then her skirt, leaving her standing inches from him in only lingerie. 

He felt his cock jerk a little at the scene before him.

“Can I touch you?” He asked, looking up at her. “Please?” 

She laughed and nodded. “Since you asked so nicely.” 

He moaned, reaching up to cup her bottom in his hands and pull her in, resting his head on her stomach for a moment. 

He pressed soft, open mouthed kisses along her stomach, his hands coasting down the back of her legs. She hummed, pleased. His thumbs brushed the band of her underwear, but he didn’t dare slip underneath and peel them away - and the fact he knew he should wait, made the wait all the more delicious. 

Y/N leaned into him and he took his opportunity to explore her more: her lower back, her inner thighs, the soft part of her belly. He found himself paying more attention to parts of her because he wanted to please her - and he knew she’d step back if he went too far. 

He tracked kisses across her ribs and enjoyed the change in her breathing. He had never been so in tune like this before, so aware of someone’s reactions and emotions. 

He felt her fingers on his shoulders, keeping herself steady as she let him worship her midriff. 

“Enough,” she purred and he stilled his lips on her skin. 

She sank to her knees and they were eye to eye. Another kiss, long and charged, and that time he could take deep pleasure in wrapping his hands in her hair. 

She wrapped a hand around his cock and Hotch thought he might black out from the rush of pleasure. Hearing her describe it on the phone and feeling her hand actually close around him were two different things. 

He breathed her name and she smiled, pressing kisses to his neck as she slowly started to work him. 

As she twisted her wrist, Hotch found he had to clench his fists. He could have came right there. 

“Don’t.” 

He nodded fitfully, aware of how much she knew his reactions already. 

She worked him a little while longer, almost to the edge, almost to breaking point, before releasing him and sitting back on her heels. 

“You’re doing well,” she said with a smile. “Seeing you all tense and ready to tip over the edge has me so hot.” She reached up and cupped her breasts over her bra, a soft moan slipping from her mouth and going straight to Hotch’s hard cock.

She slid her hands down her body, sensuous to the last second, her hand disappearing into her underwear and her eyes fluttered shut as she pleasured herself for a moment. Hotch couldn’t tear his eyes away. 

“You had me so fucking turned on,” she moaned softly, “on the phone that night.. when you told me how you would go down on me.” Her eyes opened and locked with Hotch’s. “God, I can’t wait to ride that face.” 

She slipped her hand from her panties and Hotch noticed the wetness on her fingers. In slow motion, she brought her fingers to his lips. 

“Open.” 

He did, gladly, immediately moaning at the incredible intimacy of the moment. 

She let him suck on her fingers and at the same time, wrapped her other hand around him and started a steady rhythm. Hotch thought he might pass out from sensation as her thumb passed over his head. 

Twice more, she drew him to the edge, to the precipice and almost let him fall over but drew him back at the last second. He was a panting mess, and almost bucking into her hand as she worked him over and over. 

“Do you wanna cum?” She asked, that teasing note in her voice that drove him crazy.

“Please,” he said, any form of pride gone. 

She pouted at him. “Come on, Aaron, I’ve heard you do better than that-“ 

“Please, please let me cum, I can’t take it anymore,” he begged, his eyes holding hers desperately. 

“When you’re ready, then,” she whispered and sank down and all of his fantasies burst into flames in front of him as her mouth sank over him. He thought he might pass out, or die, or something but it didn’t matter. He came, and thought he might never cum again so powerfully. 

He collapsed back on the bed, spent. She grinned, disappearing into the bathroom for a second to clean up, and reappeared with a warm washcloth in hand. She gently cleaned him and he let her, enjoying the care in her touch. 

“Well,” she asked, discarding the cloth and leaning over him on the bed. “Was I worth the wait?” 

“You have no idea,” Hotch mumbled, absolutely ruined. 

She laughed. “And you haven’t even seen me naked yet.” 

He raised his head, reminding himself of her figure still clad in lingerie. He groaned. She loved to wind him up, and he couldn’t resist. She flung a leg over him, straddling his hips, careful of his sensitive cock. 

Y/N leaned down and ghosted her lips over his brow, his cheek, and finally she caught his lips in a soft kiss. “You’re mine,” she whispered, eyes glowing with possessive joy. 

Hotch smiled, a tiny hook in the corner of his mouth. “In this hotel room, I’m all yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed their rendezvous haha!

**Author's Note:**

> Any notes would be fab! Thank you.


End file.
